Archive for December, 2012

This I meant to bring into my beloved Great State but a conscientious objection that screamed “attention whore, much?” popped outta nowhere like a lurking troll and redirected it here, to the trash can.

I don’t have the slightest idea where my sarcasm ends and where my stupidity begins anymore… that shit ever happen to you? Fuckin right it has- I can read you like a book. You’re sitting there with all these questions that you’ve never asked, only because you never gave a single fuck about the answers to any of em. And I’m gonna bring answers to the table.

An author’s dream come true. I am the motherfucker that given the slightest bit of an opportunity, will see more in your character, more in the gesture, more in the comment, more detail in the scenery than was ever there, or ever will be there again. Just one microscopic weak spot in your reality projection is all it takes and in less time than it takes a crackhead to rationalize snatching your purse (wallet) out of your shopping cart (back pocket) as you bend over to grab that bag 30 pound bag of Alpo… I have redefined you to the way you oughtta be. Every time I get shitty with you, and you do not annihilate me despite probably being able to (lol, probably)… It wasn’t because you truly didn’t give a single fuck and forgot it entirely by the time you forgot even bumping into me eight minutes later. It was because you chose to spare me, having me fixed in your peepsights, elevation and windage dead on. You don’t really even know why… hell you just got done bitchslapping at least a half dozen other unfunny attention whores over the last day or two no different than I am. Yet you purposefully chose to allow me to slide, and for no fucking reason you could put a name to. But you felt in some way like you were more than you had been just a few minutes before.. You pushed pause on an easy kill, and maybe I was not entirely too ignorant to catch that, or maybe I was. More likely I had no fucking clue, but you did and it was enough. It was pity, or maybe something else, or neither that stayed your hand…. the small, undefined, and vague hope that this gesture might… just mightone day take Sauron the Great smooth the fuck out. WTF do they even call this shit? I mean there’s gotta be something a little more relevant than that old, tired ‘delusional’, right? Ain’t the new DSM-V on the magazine/bookshelves Walgreens?

You aren’t lulzy, or witty, or on topic, or sexy, on this end… You’re fucking fully murderous. But that’s only if you give me just the slightest opportunity. I’m so sick of reality I’m ready to teabag a laundry bag full of sun ripened dirty socks and guzzle that shit unsweetened, just to make everything taste a little bit better afterward

So I’m sitting here having a discussion with myself, like I usually do about this time every night, and I got to wondering about something. Rock bottom. Where the feck is it? I couldn’t come up with a definitive answer for myself, which was kinda unusual for me. My choice of roads to take through life has put me in a rather advantageous position for knowing the answers to questions like this, right off the top of my head on a typical day. So I decided to research this shit a bit. I went to the old, tired, but relevant base of memes I have first:

But they were invalid- I knew it; that ain’t rock bottom, or even close. Even that guy pictured would not say that was rock bottom. It’s a relative thing, mostly. Much of society would agree on this being rock bottom:

And most days, I would agree. But are there lower bottoms to be found? I had once been able to talk to some guys who were on their way to that very destination, at Florence AZ years back. I was an outside trustee, my job at that time was raking the perimeter outside the fences. They would be brought out in white paper clothes and spend a few hours picking vegetables which were served in the convict chow hall. Anyway, there were at least 3 of the 9 or so guys that were actively fighting to get their appeals shot down, and fast tracked to the needle room. For them, rock bottom was no longer death, but life.

I was no closer to a definitive location for rock bottom… Just more potential locations for it.

Because not only does this place change, from person to person, it also changes for the same person, from time to time. When you’re young and narrow minded, it’s easier to come up with difficult answers.

For this one, it’s usually some fate, some set of circumstances that are unfamiliar to you, and that scare the shit outta you. Death row, maybe. But as you get older, things start to dawn on you… On death row, you have the luxury of at least knowing there’s nothing you can do.. You can relax and accept your fate, if your mind will allow it, because what the hell else can you do?

Now a person who does not have prison walls around them is in a different game entirely… A lot of possible courses of action to avoid rock bottom, wherever that might be.

And then one day, when your rock bottom has undergone many shifts of location.. longitude, latitude… altitude- I think it’s possible to start to narrow rock bottom down a little, finally.

It’s got nothing to do with location, or where you are at in age, per se. It is more a function of your horizons… closing in on you. Knowing… just knowing via experience and wisdom, that whatever action, or possible path you could divert your journey to, it has no real effect on those horizons. Once unlimited, and now closing the distance faster with every year, every month.

I think Dante Alighieri had it right. When the last of your life’s supply of hope has run out… take a look around you. Because regardless of how much of every other possible commodity you might possess, when the hope is used up- welcome to rock bottom.